Samuel ran backwards and slammed into the wall of a fishery. Tom grunted in pain as his backside indented the wall. Tom gritted his teeth and squeezed tighter still. He was not going to let this man go.
Samuel swung his body from side to side, flailing Tom’s legs in the air. It had been a full minute since Tom locked his arms around Samuel, and he had increased the pressure with every resistance Samuel offered up. But the man wasn’t slowing down, and Tom’s arms were growing sore. Tom tightened his grip with all his reserves, hoping it would do the man in—finally.
And it seemed to be working. Samuel staggered slowly and then stopped moving altogether. Tom never loosened his grip. But then Tom felt a hand on his wrist and then a crushing force. He grunted in pain and looked forward. Samuel was slowly, methodically pulling Tom’s arm away, like he had all the time in the world and no use for oxygen. Within seconds, Tom’s arms were pulled away from Samuel’s neck.
Samuel snapped his head toward Tom and took him by the robe. “We will remember you,” Samuel said, as his penetrating eyes burned into Tom’s memory.
Seconds later, Tom was airborne, as Samuel tossed him like a football. Tom sailed over the crowd and splashed down in the water. Jesus watched Tom land and then turned his head back to Samuel the fisherman, staring him straight in the eyes. Samuel froze in his tracks, his fingers only inches from Jesus’s neck.
“Come out of him,” said Jesus in a calm voice.
Samuel began to twitch from head to toe as though a thousand needles were pricking him. He fell to his knees and was no longer a powerful beast. He was instantly reduced to a pitiful horde of personalities. “What do you want with us, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? Please! Do not torture us!”
“What is your name?” Jesus asked, as though talking to an insignificant and inferior creature.
“We are Legion. Please do not send us into the abyss! Mercy! Yes, Mercy! Have mercy on us as you did during the rebellion! MERCY, mercy! There! Send us into them!” Samuel shouted, as he pointed to the heard of pigs foraging on the nearby hillside.
“The swine! Yes! YES! Send us into them! Mercy! MERCY!”
“Go,” Jesus said.
Samuel’s head arched toward the sky and his mouth gaped open as the sound of fifty wailing voices escaped his lungs. As soon as the last voice was silenced, Samuel fell and was caught by Jesus.
Tom pulled himself to his feet by clinging to the side of the boat. He had heard the screaming voices asking Jesus to have mercy, but couldn’t understand what was happening or how that man had thrown him so far. He was sure his ribs were bruised and his head pounded harder than ever. It had been years since Tom had run that fast, that far, and then into a fight. He was getting old.
The wall of people blocking Tom’s view had fallen silent, so he assumed that whatever happened was over and his assistance wasn’t needed. Not that he’d be any help. But what was that? A noise in the distance growing louder...like people screaming...but worse.
The crowd of people standing in front of Tom began to scatter in either direction. What now? Tom remained in the water, six feet from the shore, assuming that whatever was going to happen next, he’d be safe there. No one in this time period could manage more than a frantic dogpaddle, anyway.
As the last of the crowd blocking his view moved, Tom saw something he only thought could happen in frightening fairy tales. A herd of fat, wailing pigs barreled down the street and onto the beach. There was no running, no hiding. Tom was in the herd’s path and had nowhere to go. He leapt from the water into the boat they had used to cross the sea, and held on tight.
Tom heard the pigs plow into the water. He heard them screech and then choke and die. He raised his head slightly to see what was happening. Screak! One of the pigs jumped into the boat, its mouth full of foam, and then just as quickly hopped out of the boat, directly over Tom’s head. Tom screamed and jumped to his feet. He stood like a statue.
Everything was quiet as Tom spun around, scanning the water with his eyes. The entire herd of pigs was floating, dead in the water. Tom covered his mouth. As the pigs floated out to sea, he saw a clearing through the water to the beach and took it. David met him on the shore.
“What the hell was that?” Tom demanded to know, in English.
“Tom, watch your language!” David whispered.
“What, I can’t say hell now, either?”
“You’re speaking in English!”
Tom fell silent and then collected himself. He continued in Aramaic, “So, what happened?”
“That man you tried to tackle was possessed by a legion of demons. Jesus sent them into the herd of pigs,” David explained, “Are you okay?”
“Is that supposed to be funny, ha-ha, or just plain ridiculous?” Tom asked.
“They don’t think it’s very funny,” David said, as he pointed to the crowd standing on the street, away from Jesus, who was still holding Samuel. Tom lowered his eyebrows when he saw the faces of the crowd, and he walked closer to hear what was happening.
Samuel was awake and standing on his own, but still leaning on Jesus for support. A hefty man in the crowd stepped forward and said, “Please, leave us. We...don’t want you here.”
Many in the crowd began to run away, afraid of Jesus, just as they were afraid of Samuel. Tom knew it was human nature to fear the unknown and right now, Jesus was the epitome of the unknown. But Samuel did not fear him. “Please Master, let me come with you,” Samuel said.
“It is not for you. Return home and tell how much God has done for you,” Jesus replied, as he gently steadied Samuel on his feet.
“Yes, my Lord,” Samuel said, and with that he headed away from the beach.
The remaining members of the crowd ran away as Samuel approached, leaving fourteen alone on the beach.
Jesus turned toward the sea and watched as the sun began to set. David and Tom stood next to him. “Maybe tomorrow won’t be so long?” David said with just a hint of a smile.
Jesus nodded and they watched the herd of dead pigs float off into the sunset.
—ELEVEN—
Breathe
1996
6:41 P.M.
Arizona
Tom had been vexed since 1997, when Peggy’s Porker Palace removed Honey BBQ baby back ribs from their menu. He had enjoyed the meal twice a week for years and then one day they were gone. Tom inquired to the reason for the tasty food’s disappearance and was told by Peggy herself, “Ain’t enough cows with ribs in the world to feed the likes of the beasts eatin’ here. Get too many complaints when we run out. Fights break out. Tables get broke. We losin’ money ’cause a them ribs. That’s the truth.”
Tom had seen one of those infamous rib brawls and knew Peggy was right. But it was now within Tom’s power to enjoy the meal at least one more time. Tom and David picked a night when they knew their past selves wouldn’t be dining and tore through time and space for a savory meal. They looked forward to modern convenience, which was a welcome change to what they had endured for some time.
They had experienced a dazzling array of events: Jesus fed five thousand men, plus their wives and children. Tom had estimated the true number of people to be closer to eighteen thousand. Plenty of people, time and confusion for Jesus’s secret society of helpers (that was Tom’s latest theory) to make several trips to neighboring villages, cities and markets and return with enough fish and bread to feed the masses. It was an elaborately staged magic show. One that Tom thought David Copperfield might do better.
In what Tom considered to be one of Jesus’s best performances, they witnessed Jesus walk on water. It was truly amazing at first, but Tom found flaws as usual. Tom noticed Jesus rise and fall with each wave, so he was indeed standing on something, but not the water. A thick fog had rolled in and visibility was poor. At times Jesus’s feet could be made out, but generally, the fog blocked Tom’s view. Tom concluded that Jesus had taken advantage of the foggy air to perform a rather stunning visual illusion by standing on a
floating plank. Tom was now a firm believer...that Jesus invented surfing.
Over the months that followed, they saw Jesus heal more men and women from various ailments—all of which Tom believed to be staged, like so many modern TV evangelists. They heard Jesus tell parables, confusing stories that meant something else all together. David was the only one who seemed to get the hidden meaning on the first telling, but Tom noticed David was changing too. When he watched Jesus perform miracles his eyebrows would furrow instead of raise, his eyes would squint instead of widen and he would attempt to view the event from several angles. Tom saw this behavior and knew that David was still a scientist. He couldn’t help himself from dissecting each miracle, observing, measuring and hypothesizing. What Tom couldn’t see was the outcome to David’s scrutinizing.
Even Tom had become partially distracted from his goals. He became more comfortable in the past and closer friends with Judas, Matthew, Peter and Jesus. The group often acted like college men, wrestling and playing pranks on each other. They once conspired against David and set a trap of Tom’s design. A bucket of water was placed on a door and when David entered the room, the bucket crashed down and soaked him, bringing on a fit of laughter from all present. To Tom and David this was an old prank seen on TV, but to their ancient friends, it was a priceless new gag.
With all that was happening, all they were experiencing, internally and externally, Tom and David lost track of time. Before they knew it, they had been living in ancient Israel for almost two years. Two years...they deserved a break. At night, when everyone was sleeping, they stole off into the darkness, walked two miles from the nearest sign of civilization and made the trip back to the future to enjoy a hot plate of Honey BBQ ribs and a glass of drinkable water.
Tom stretched, making room in his already overstuffed and ballooning belly. He had eaten two portions of ribs—more food than he might eat in three days back in ancient Israel. His stomach had protested at first, but Tom forged on. David hadn’t eaten as much, but did partake in an above average amount of Wild Cherry Pepsi. He had already used the bathroom four times and Tom imagined David wouldn’t be sleeping for another day from the caffeine circulating through his system. But they agreed, while the sweet, sweet taste of modern food wreaked havoc with their now healthy bodies, it was well worth any discomfort.
After being silent while they devoured their meals, Tom finally noticed they were being watched. Every eye was on him and David, curiously inspecting the two hungry men. Tom realized what puzzled the thick bodied and thicker headed Porker Palace patrons; in the excitement to eat good food, he and David had neglected to change into proper attire. They were both still wearing their ancient robes, which were dirty, but still very colorful. They did their best to ignore the probing eyes surrounding them.
“Do you think we should have changed first?” David asked.
“I’m sure they’ve seen stranger,” Tom said, as he downed a glass of water and slapped it on the table as though it were a shot of vodka. “Never thought I’d be so glad to drink a glass of water.”
“After returning to the modern world, are you sure you want to go back?” David asked.
“A little late to try changing my mind again, isn’t it?” Tom replied.
“Just wondering what you’re going to do when all this is over? Jesus will die and rise again and you’ll be a Christian. You’re just going to come back to the future like nothing has changed?”
“A: There is no way in hell I’m staying back there a day longer than this takes. B: Jesus won’t rise from the grave, and I’m pretty sure he’s not going to die either,” Tom said.
“So the Bible is one hundred percent fiction?”
“That’s my guess. A fictional book based on the life of the original Houdini.”
As Tom sat back, happy with his comment, he noticed two rather sizable hicks pointing and laughing at him and David. Tom did his best to ignore the men and continued the conversation. “So is your savior everything you expected him to be?” Tom asked.
David shifted in his seat. “What?”
“Jesus…not everything you expected him to be, is he? Doesn’t exactly fit the perfect little cookie cutter mold the religious world has given him,” Tom said.
A sadness filled David’s eyes as he stared blankly at the table. Tom didn’t expect this response from his normally stubborn colleague. “You’re having doubts, aren’t you! Now that you’ve met the guy and he’s more human than you want him to be...you’re having doubts.”
Tom smiled ear to ear and continued, “I mean really, any guy who can be friends with me could never be the savior of the world, right?”
David looked up and said, “Tom...I—”
“Hey, aren’t you fellas late fer your Mary Kay party?” shouted one of the two hicks, now standing right next to them.
Tom and David did their best to ignore the man and continue their conversation, “Tom—”
“Didn’t you hear him, boy?” shouted the second hick, standing above David.
Tom’s patience wore away. All they wanted to do was have a conversation and enjoy a meal for the first time in two years, and these big, fat, annoying hicks couldn’t get over the fact that Tom and David were wearing robes. “Listen, sir, I haven’t had a single alcoholic beverage tonight, so I’m in no mood. If you could, please take your girthy friend and go get another beer on me. Okay?”
Tom’s long stream of lengthy words seemed to confuse the men. They looked at each other and then walked away. David looked at Tom, wide-eyed and attempting not to smile. “I can’t believe that worked!” David said.
But he spoke too soon. The two lumbering men returned with two more beefcakes in tow. Tom and David were outnumbered and outsized. One of the new men stepped toward Tom and asked, “Did you all call Billy fat?”
“No, I called him girthy,” Tom replied.
“That ain’t even a word,” the man said, as he cracked his knuckles.
Tom couldn’t help himself. “They teaching English lessons at the hog farm now?”
The response was instant and massive, “Git’im!”
Two of the thugs leaned forward, arms stretched out, hands grappling. David was pulled from his bench and tossed onto a table, which he slid across. He careened over the other side, taking two plates of food, a large Coke, four settings of silverware and a small vase of fake flowers with him.
Tom was a little quicker. He pivoted his bench and thrust his right leg forward, catching one of the assailants in the nose with his heel. The man screamed in pain and fell backwards into Billy. The two men toppled back like thick dominos and destroyed a chair beneath them. The man on top of Billy held his nose and whined, “He done broke my nothe!”
“Git off me so as I can kill ’im!” Billy shouted, trapped beneath his heavy-set friend.
“I gat ’im!” shouted the third hick, who had yet to get his hands on anybody.
The bulbous man, whose overalls barely fit, surged forward, threatening to crush Tom right there in his bench. Tom used the bench’s slippery surface to his advantage and slid beneath the table. The bench cracked as the weight of the overalls-wearing man mashed down on it. If Tom had been still in his seat, he would surely have been compressed beyond the point of breathing.
Tom rushed out from under the table. Two of the men were still squirming around on the floor, trying to get to their feet, but the man with the broken and bloody nose was writhing around so much that the other couldn’t roll over onto his belly and push himself up. As for the man on the bench, he wasn’t going anywhere fast either. He was wedged firmly between the wall, the bench and the table. Tom imagined it would take the Jaws of Life to cut him free.
The last of the four attackers was at the opposite end of a table, facing David. They were moving back and forth from side to side as the lumbering behemoth attempted to wrap his thick hands around David’s throat. The man took the table in his hands and tossed it to the side, as though it was no more then a chunk of Styr
ofoam. Tom knew he had to act quickly and picked up a plate from his table.
Moving quickly, Tom rounded the last of several tables blocking his path and slammed the solid plate down on the last hick’s head. The plate shattered from the blow and the man fell to his knees, though he wasn’t knocked unconscious. David stood still with wide eyes.
“David,” Tom said.
David didn’t budge.
“David!” Tom said with a smile, knowing David had probably seen his life flash before his eyes. “Let’s get out of here before they get moving.”
David snapped out of his trance and his eyes met Tom’s.
“C’mon,” Tom said, and David moved.
Tom turned and headed for the door with David right behind him. They didn’t make it two feet before being stopped by a wall of three more rotund, country warriors.
“Where you ladies off to?” one of them said with a smile, as he gnawed on a toothpick.
Tom sighed and without a word, slugged the first man in the stomach.
From the parking lot around Peggy’s Porker Palace, the sounds of breaking dishes, glasses and screaming men could be heard echoing from inside the establishment. The front door whooshed open as Tom and David ran out into the parking lot. Both had been trounced fairly well. Tom’s nose was bleeding and David’s eye was swollen. “Quick! Around back!” Tom shouted.
Tom and David sped around the building, out of sight from any locals and activated their watches. The two bright flashes of light and two loud bangs, heard and seen by everyone with a window seat at the Porker Palace would later be explained as swamp gas—even though there wasn’t a swamp for hundreds of miles around.
Seven angry hicks pounded out of the restaurant and scanned the area for their fleeing prey. It wasn’t every day they got to beat down a couple a fairies!
The Didymus Contingency Page 12
